I feel like I’m supposed to be one of those people who “have it all together”. I’ve grown up in the church. I know the Sunday School answers. I’m married to a guy who is a pastor in every sense of the word except the official title.

But lately I’ve been having a lot of doubts.

Not about God’s existence … about His goodness.

Especially this week.

Friends of ours from church lost both of their baby boys this week – one, half an hour after birth and the other, three days later.

Lately I’ve come to realize something I fear even more: not being in control.

Three phrases I’ve heard over and over throughout the past three weeks – from family, friends, and my doctor:

“It’s not your fault.”

“These things happen.” and

“There’s nothing you can do.”

None of which I find remotely comforting.

I wish I had a reason – any reason – for why it happened.

And of course, by “any reason” – I mean something I can control.

I’ve been trying to eat healthier. Exercise more. Get more rest.

Control whatever I can control in the hopes that next time – if there is a next time – it won’t end in miscarriage.

But I know I’m not in control. I can do all the right things – I can eat properly, exercise, take good care of myself – but I know that God is in control. I know that.

It’s just a lesson that I seem to need to learn over and over and over.

I clue in – let Him be in charge for awhile – maybe a day. Maybe a week. Usually only a few seconds … and then I start reaching for the reins. “No, God. Let me do it.”

As if the Creator of the Universe doesn’t know what He’s doing.

Job 38:4 – 38 (NLT)
4 “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?
Tell me, if you know so much.
5 Who determined its dimensions
and stretched out the surveying line?
6 What supports its foundations,
and who laid its cornerstone
7 as the morning stars sang together
and all the angels[a] shouted for joy?
8 “Who kept the sea inside its boundaries
as it burst from the womb,
9 and as I clothed it with clouds
and wrapped it in thick darkness?
10 For I locked it behind barred gates,
limiting its shores.
11 I said, ‘This far and no farther will you come.
Here your proud waves must stop!’
12 “Have you ever commanded the morning to appear
and caused the dawn to rise in the east?
13 Have you made daylight spread to the ends of the earth,
to bring an end to the night’s wickedness?
14 As the light approaches,
the earth takes shape like clay pressed beneath a seal;
it is robed in brilliant colors.[b]
15 The light disturbs the wicked
and stops the arm that is raised in violence.
16 “Have you explored the springs from which the seas come?
Have you explored their depths?
17 Do you know where the gates of death are located?
Have you seen the gates of utter gloom?
18 Do you realize the extent of the earth?
Tell me about it if you know!
19 “Where does light come from,
and where does darkness go?
20 Can you take each to its home?
Do you know how to get there?
21 But of course you know all this!
For you were born before it was all created,
and you are so very experienced!
22 “Have you visited the storehouses of the snow
or seen the storehouses of hail?
23 (I have reserved them as weapons for the time of trouble,
for the day of battle and war.)
24 Where is the path to the source of light?
Where is the home of the east wind?
25 “Who created a channel for the torrents of rain?
Who laid out the path for the lightning?
26 Who makes the rain fall on barren land,
in a desert where no one lives?
27 Who sends rain to satisfy the parched ground
and make the tender grass spring up?
28 “Does the rain have a father?
Who gives birth to the dew?
29 Who is the mother of the ice?
Who gives birth to the frost from the heavens?
30 For the water turns to ice as hard as rock,
and the surface of the water freezes.
31 “Can you direct the movement of the stars—
binding the cluster of the Pleiades
or loosening the cords of Orion?
32 Can you direct the sequence of the seasons
or guide the Bear with her cubs across the heavens?
33 Do you know the laws of the universe?
Can you use them to regulate the earth?
34 “Can you shout to the clouds
and make it rain?
35 Can you make lightning appear
and cause it to strike as you direct?
36 Who gives intuition to the heart
and instinct to the mind?
37 Who is wise enough to count all the clouds?
Who can tilt the water jars of heaven
38 when the parched ground is dry
and the soil has hardened into clods?

When I was in junior high, my best friend’s little sister told me I had chicken legs. I was a skinny little kid with long legs that probably did resemble chicken legs – but that one comment – from a four-year-old kid, mind you – was enough to make me so self-conscious about my legs that the thought of having to wear shorts for gym class made me physically ill.

When I graduated from high school, my friends and I had a post-prom bonfire to reminisce about the “good ‘ole days” – and to say good-bye, since we would soon be scattered all across the province. The only thing I remember from that night (well, apart from the fact that Jenelle’s fish pond had a poor pH balance and all of her fish had died – and were rotting – while we were having our campout) was the fact that Paul’s girlfriend – who I had just met that night – laughed at me in my baggy sweatpants and told me that I had no bum. I spent years wearing shopping for long shirts to hide that fact.

By the time I was in my third year of university, I thought I was comfortable enough with who I was to brave wearing shorts to a retreat our church hosted for the leaders of our young adults group. By that point I actually liked my legs – riding a couple of horses a day for years meant I definitely didn’t have chicken legs – but it also meant that even when I was outside, I was most likely in breeches and boots or jeans and half chaps. When my young adults pastor put on his sunglasses and told me that my legs were blinding him … well, out came the jeans, even though it was probably 30º all weekend. That was eight summers ago, and the only shorts I own (which I’m still hesitant to wear!) are knee-length.

I can tell myself that what those people said doesn’t matter. I mean, obviously the little sister didn’t know any better, the girlfriend was probably right (I wore those sweat pants over my riding breeches to keep them clean before horse shows – they were so big, I probably looked like I didn’t have legs either!), and the young adults pastor was just joking around. (Besides, I’d rather have glaringly white legs and ride horses than have tanned legs and skin cancer any day!) I know all those things are true – but for whatever reason, I still can’t seem to erase those words from my memory.

But then again – the same is true for words of encouragement.

I remember the director of the youth program at the Bible College I attended pulling me aside after class one day and handing me my journal. “You should write a devotional for teens,” he told me. “You’re a talented writer.” Those words are what keeps me plugging away at my writing – whether it’s in my journal, on this blog, or elsewhere. I might not be working on a youth devotional (or novel, or children’s series, or anything, really …) at the moment – but I’m optimistic that some day at least some of my random scratchings will make their way to print!

It’s enough to make me want to stop and think before I speak: Am I speaking words that will build people up – or words that will tear them down?